


A New Rock Bottom

by CavannaRose



Series: Rose Wilson Fics [7]
Category: Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics), Terror Titans - Fandom
Genre: Drug Use, Emotional Baggage, F/M, Implied Sex as Currency, Past Drug Use, Poor Life Choices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-04 06:22:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6644887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavannaRose/pseuds/CavannaRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eddie isn't dead anymore, but Rose is still pushing him away. Will this finally finish what they had together on the rooftop?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was funny how people thought that once you hit rock bottom, there was no place to go but up. Rose was starting to feel like the shining example of how untrue that was. It didn't matter where your rock bottom was, once you got there, you could still peer over the side and find a new low to sink to. At least she could, over and over and over again. She's struggled with her father's manipulations, drug addiction, a reputation for licentiousness that was more bluster than truly earned. Each time it felt like she'd never sunk lower, each time she was proven that there was no such thing as low enough. Not for a Wilson, anyway. Maybe if there had been more of Lillian Worth within her things would have turned out differently, but that was a moot point. She was what she was, her father's creature, struggling futilely to find a life of her own, while still clinging to the identity he had given her. That dichotomy drove her further and further from the light she knew she didn't deserve.  
  
It was amazing, how a bit of aggression and a stand-offish attitude made other people think you were strong. She'd based her entire reputation off of posturing and being as genuinely unlikable as humanly possible. Despite that, she'd still gotten close to a few people over the years, letting them in a little bit at a time. None so far as Eddie though, he had worn down her barriers with his constant warmth and faith, easing his way into her life until it was hard to imagine it without him. After she left, after he hadn't gone with her, she thought that was it. Her walls slammed back into place tenfold, and even those who had made overtures of friendship found themselves right back on the outside looking in. Twice bitten once shy and all that cliched nonsense, but she wasn't opening herself up to anymore pain.  
  
Then, as happens occasionally in their field of work, he came back. Maybe it was that deal he'd made that had transformed him into the white-haired demon boy that had lit her cigarettes and warmed her constantly cold feet, or maybe it was the fact that he was a genuine, good-hearted hero who could make a difference in the world, but he'd come back. Out of all of them, he was the most deserving in her eye. He had sacrificed himself to save the world, after all. The big, dumb asshole. Ruining any chance they had had of making up. She would take the guilt of that death to her grave. It would never release her. They were best friends, with a hint of something more. No one else on the prep squad was going to watch his back. She should have known, she should have been strong enough to stay, to help him.  
  
Facts were facts, and she had run away. Fled the castigation and the suspicious glances. No one would let her forget she was the daughter of Slade Wilson, so she went somewhere that it would aid her reputation, not detract from it. She set out on her own, building her own rap through mercenary work and the occasionally assassination. She would never be the killer her father was, but she would never be the hero the Titans had needed her to be be either, the hero Eddie was so sure she was.  
  
She moved through the dilapidated flat that she was squatting in currently like a ghost. No lights, no heat, no running water. It was just the basics, shelter from the elements outside. She felt that familiar pull in her blood, that twitch along her spine. The cravings were eating her alive once more. Adrenaline wasn't a common drug, not something you'd find and be able to pick up on the street, but it had a hold on her that couldn't be denied. Rose rubbed her chest idly as she moved into the dark and stained bathroom, the fixtures cracked and worn, smelling like piss and decay.  
  
Scattered across the remains of the sink were several inhalers. Rose picked them up one by one, shaking them by her ear. Every one was empty. She tossed the last one into the water-less toilet bowl with a grated curse. She couldn't just go jacking pharmacies because she wanted another hit. She might not be a hero, but she wasn't a common crook either... not today anyway. She'd fallen that low before, but the twinge of pride within her wouldn't let her go there again. Not with Eddie back. He might not like her using, but if he knew she were lifting the goods on top of that... Somehow his faith in her kept her going, in a way that she couldn't explain.  
  
There was another option, though she wasn't sure it was any better than robbery. She flipped open her phone, scrolling through the contacts. He could get it for her, he'd done it before, but she hadn't been wiling to match his price for the continued supply. She hadn't been as low then, though, not like now. Hadn't really understood how filthy and corrupt her soul truly was. She'd still held on to the hope she could be something brighter, better than what her father had shaped her to be. She knew better now. The conversation was brief, and it wasn't long before she was standing outside his door.  
  
She stood there for a long time, debating whether to take that step, to go in and give up on the hope she had let breed within her breast. Eddie was back, but it had just shone a light on how far she had fallen. Maybe this time she was making a choice he couldn't explain away. Maybe this time he wouldn't be able to see the silver lining. She loved him, she loved him in a way that she had never loved anyone before. No lust. No longing, just a pure emotion. If she loved him, she would do this. She would shatter his trust and set him free, let him move on into a world where he could be the kind of hero she would never be. Rose refused to be the anchor around his neck anymore. Finally, she lifted a hand and knocked.  
  
The door swung open, revealing a malicious, smiling face. "I worried you might let that conscience of yours change your mind. I shouldn't have worried, though. We're too much alike. There's too much that pulls us together." He held out his hand, the adrenaline inhaler nestled in his palm, closing it when Rose reached out. "Ah, ah, pet. We've played this game before. Payment up front, you're not weaseling out of it this time. Not when I went out of my way to make it special... romantic even."  
  
A shudder went down her spine, self loathing heavy in the pit of her stomach. She knew Eddie wouldn't like her after this, she was pretty sure she didn't like herself anymore. Slade might approve, you used what you had to get what you needed, but would her father even feel that sinking this low was right?  
  
"Let's get this over with Tem."

 


	2. Chapter 2

She crept away like the coward she clearly was, inhalers swiped from the bedside table and carefully stowed into her pocket. She looked down at his prone form one last time. If she had brought her katanas, she just might have killed him then. How could he look smug even in sleep? Out of everything she had ever done, she hated herself most for this. Silent steps carried her out the front door, the reek of him a miasma around her, screaming FILTH and WHORE inside her head, until it was all she could hear. She wanted to peel off her skin, everywhere she could still his touch crawling with regret and self-loathing. So many in her life had told her she was no better than this, over and over, and now they were finally right.

No one but Eddie had ever seen more in her. He had looked passed all of it, seen more than her father's creature, some foul, bloodthirsty monster of low morals, and lifted her up. Never in her life would she have guess that living down to everyone else's expectations of her would shake her very foundation like this. She felt... hollow. Even the itch for a fix that was her constant companion was gone, lost in the reek of what she had done, ironically making the act even less worthwhile. She wanted a shower, enough alcohol to kill an elephant, and maybe... just maybe... to curl up in a ball in some dark hole and cry for what she had just willfully thrown away.

Even Rose herself hadn't suspected that she'd still harboured a secret hope that one day she'd live up to the picture her best friend had held of her in his head. The loss of it, of that less shred of innocence in her life, it had shattered something within her. The mercenary's hand went involuntarily to her pocket, cradling the phone resting there, but not pulling it out. What could she say to him? "Hi, here's all the things you thought I could be in a pile of tatters, do you hate me now?" She could never look him in the eye again.

The sound that escaped her throat wasn't one she recognized, remorse and regret not often words found in her lexicon. The depth of desolation echoing in that one strangled sob were beyond what she thought she could feel. She wished LaFarge had killed her, back in that time long ago. Before she had met Eddie, before she had ruined her own life, and now maybe his. Every time he turned around, she failed him. She hadn't been at his back when he died, and here she was betraying him in a way that went far beyond tumbling into a bed.

The corner liquor store was closed, the whole street dark and empty. With barely a second thought, she drove her fist through the glass door, shattering it and ripping the skin on her hand to shreds, the bloody gauges traveling all the way to her elbow as she felt around for the lock. Yanking the door open, the cacophony of the alarm screaming accusations at her, she nabbed the largest bottle she could see, a Texas mickey proudly on display near the front checkout. Cradling her promised oblivion, she headed back towards the slums where she clearly belonged.

Rose twisted off the bottle top, swigging directly from the ridiculously over-sized bottle as she made her way through the worst parts of Gotham. Though she passed her fair share of unsavory characters, not a soul interrupted her belligerent progression. She had a reputation in these parts, and even the lowest echelons of society recognized that "nothing left to lose" look in her eye.

The bottle was almost empty by the time she made it to the tenement building housing her dismal little flat. She almost made it to her door, near blind from the the drink and the tears streaming down her face. She smelled of sin and scotch, copper and salt. The seeping wounds on her arm had left a bloody trail through the back alleys of the city that even a blind man could follow. It didn't matter, she was done here. If she stayed, Tem would come slithering back into her life, encouraged by her weakness today, offering her the temptation that had brought her to his door in her hour of desperation. After all, once you've sunk so low, how could you do anything other than wallow in it?

She stumbled against the wall, swearing and sobbing as she tried to keep her balance, dig out her keys, and bring the bottle to her lips again all at the same time. She didn't notice either the cold, or the familiar figure huddled at her door, waiting to see if she'd come home. The bottle slipped from her bloody grasp, slick with crimson and it's own contents. It smashed spectacularly against the filthy floor. Rose simply stared at it for a long moment, tunnel vision blocking out all other sights or sounds, her face a mask of broken incomprehension. She dropped to her knees, hunkered in the puddle of broken bottle, blood and booze, face buried in her hands. She didn't make a sound, the tears halting in their tracks down her cheek. She just... gave up.


	3. Chapter 3

It took a lot of alcohol and a whole lot more uncaring for Rose to get herself so insensate that she didn't respond to someone touching her. She didn't like to be defenseless. Despite her tendency to casually touch and flirt, she didn't much care to be touched either. Touch required trust, touch when you were helpless... well there was a level of trust that was missing in Rose's broken psyche. She struggled, or at least tried to, but lacked the strength. All of the serum that ran through her veins was too busy trying to stop her from dying of alcohol poisoning to spare anything for physical movement. Her head lolled as she was carried into the apartment and settled as comfortably as Eddie could manage given the lack of amenities she lived with. She couldn't even crack her eye open, as he murmured comforting words in her ear. She did note, however, the undercurrents to his tone. Something was wrong. Her brow wrinkled as her disjointed and disorganized thoughts tried to piece together what could possibly be bothering Eddie. Then it cleared, memory fading as another wave of alcohol crashed against her consciousness, dragging her back under as her friend moved off to take care of other things.

Slowly Rose's enhanced systems processed their way through the alcohol she had damn near tried to kill herself with. If it hadn't been for Slade's serum flowing in her veins, she very likely could have died of liver failure tonight. Instead she was flailing her way to wakefulness that she didn't even want to feel. She was confused, disoriented, unsure where she was or what was going on. The sound of a voice penetrated the miasma encapsulating her, a male voice, and she was too far gone to recognize it.

"Tempy no..." she protested, curling into a defensive ball. He was the last thing she remembered. What she had done, the reason she had done it, guilt weighing her down as if she could drown in just the memories of it all. Rose covered her face with her hands, ragged breathing barely escaping her lungs as she struggled for what little shreds of self control she could muster. _Never let them see you cry_.

Of all the times to hear her mother's voice... when she was this low it was just another nail in the coffin she was building for herself. She rolled away from where Eddie was standing in the bathroom, off the other side of her stained blankets, pushing her back against the wall, single eye rolling in... fear? She clearly wasn't seeing her surroundings, trapped in the nightmare she had built for herself. Why hadn't she made the call she had promised? Curse her for being so fucking stubborn. Her hands raised up in front of her, holding off the blurry figure she could barely make out. Depth perception to lacking to notice how far away he truly stood.

"No more. I've earned them. I'm...." Finally the world came clear, and Rose was faced with the truth. Her expression crumpled, folding in on itself as she noticed who she was trying to hold off. Blue eye flickering over the disinfectant's in the red-skinned man's hand. This was what she had wanted, wasn't it? That look of hurt and betrayal, she had set out to put that on his precious face. With a grimace she stood, straightening her clothing out as best she could, not meeting Eddie's gaze.

"You shouldn't be here, Dev. A superhero like you, shouldn't you be out saving the world with Teen Chearleader Squad Seven or something?" She tried to thread as many harsh tones through her voice as possible. The gravel that her drunken escapades had supplied helped, but she wasn't sure she'd injected enough disdain to fool the man who was her best friend. She tugged the bandage off her injured arm, tossing it to the floor by his feet, her reactions still slowed, still jerky as the alcohol hadn't quite worked it's way through her system yet.

She tried to call on the coldness she usually reserved for the man who considered himself her father, a difficult task when she was pushed so close against the wall it looked like she was trying to escape through it. "Face it hot stuff, we're nothing alike anymore. You're still a hero, and I'm the trash that your type tries to keep off the streets. Get out of here before your new friends find out you were slumming it with a criminal."

She was trying her best to dismiss him, to send him away. She didn't want Eddie to see her shame, to see what she had let herself become. She had failed him, worse than anyone else had before, and she was a coward. She didn't want to face it. "I'm meeting Slade this afternoon... where'd you put my fucking bag?" It came out like a plea, rather than the harsh demand she had intended.

Damn it, why couldn't she just push him away and be done with it? Rose wanted to throw herself in his arms and beg forgiveness, but she kept trying to present a bitter exterior. Deception of this type was an art she had perfected at her father's knee, but it all disappeared when faced with the only person she truly loved. Damn him all the way back to fucking hell.


End file.
